


The Romantic Consequences of Zombie Attacks

by aigroe



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Zombies, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 05:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aigroe/pseuds/aigroe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The likelihood of impending death can be a good motivation for honesty about your feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Romantic Consequences of Zombie Attacks

You hear the first stirrings of it whilst in Math. Low moans ooze their way up through the floor and tittering breaks out over the whole class. Dave smirks and you roll your eyes at him, which prompts a shrug.

After a few moments there’s silence again, until once more the moans swell up, louder and more insistent. It sounds like several people at least. This time people are less ready to laugh. A couple of them glance at the floor in concern. The sound doesn’t die. It grows. And it’s not just below you any more; you can hear it coming from outside too.

“What the…” Your teacher strides over to the windows and looks out. There’s a general scramble to follow suit, and you land yourself a decent spot on top of a chair, peering over everyone’s heads.

At first you’re not sure what you’re seeing. It slowly becomes clear that it’s a group of people shuffling into the building. They’re moving strangely and their gait is off, but as you look closer you see that’s far from the strangest thing about them. Their skin is sallow and seems to hang off them, and their mouths hang open, constantly emitting that eerie moan.

You’re concerned, but not really frightened. This changes when you see the deputy principal walking out to stop the horde of strangers and watch the one in the lead rip his arm off and take a bite out of it.

Screaming breaks out immediately. Several people shriek and run for the door. When they open it there’s a loud _“grahhggg!”_ and you see a boy you’ve known since elementary dragged out of the classroom. Blood spatters everywhere and another person is lost to the gaggle before the teacher reaches the door and shoves it shut. As she does so one of the more enterprising zombies manages a nip of her arm.

She leans against the door, breathing heavily.

“Jade,” Dave mutters out of the corner of his mouth.

“Mm?” You’re watching her for any movement. While the rest of the class mill round in confusion your mind is racing. Your phone buzzes and you fish it out to see a text from John: _jade! are you okay?_

“I think she’s turning into a zombie,” Dave says. “Yeah, she’s definitely turning into a zombie.”

He’s right. She’s swaying and her attempts to corral the class are becoming increasingly slurred. Kids are beginning to back away from her.

You share a glance. Both of you know what needs to be done.

“Okay! Guys!” You bellow. “Get away from her! She’s infected!”

Slowly they comply, moving into the furthest corner of the room. You glance around for a weapon but Dave’s already there, picking up the stick you use to open the high windows. He hefts it in his hands and a moment later the teacher starts lumbering forwards. She moves towards him but he swings in one easy blow and knocks her to the floor.

You prod her. Yep, she’s unconscious.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it’s Rose. _Apparently the scare stories were right. Wait, I’m the only one who will understand that reference since I’m apparently the only one who watches the news. We’re in English Literature – Room 41 – with Terezi, Kanaya and Eridan. We have a good barricade and are devising a plan. Come and meet us._

You show it to Dave and he nods. “Sounds good. We bringing these chumps?”

“We can’t leave them. Hey! Everybody!” They turn to face you. “Dave and I are going to the English rooms! You can come with us if you want!”

One of the louder kids shakes their head. “I’m not going outside this room until it’s safe.”

There’s a murmur of agreement and you shrug. You grab your stuff and a chair to use as a weapon, get everyone to clear back from the door then slip out into the corridor.

Dave swings his improvised club in a wide arc, knocking away a swathe of zombies, then you push past them and run. The school is strangely empty once you’ve got through the initial knot of the undead.

“I think there’s a gun in the principal’s office,” you pant as you run. “We might be able to break in and take it.”

“Worth a try,” he says.  Luckily he seems too preoccupied to ask how you know it’s there. You don’t want to tell him about the time you got sent there for a serious talk about how much class you’d been skipping  and, like any sensible person would, scoured the room for your files when he left you alone for a minute. Dave’s image of you would probably not go well with the Teen Delinquent you used to be. You let him think he’s cooler.

You run into another group of zombies before reaching the stairs. Your chair catches one square in the face. You leap over the body and keep running.

As expected, the office is locked. You ram a shoulder into it, but to no avail.

“Jade!” Dave is crouched over a body, but he stands as you turn to face him, holding a set of keys.

“What is it-”

“You don’t want to see.” He starts trying keys in the lock. “But English won’t be handing out any more detentions.”

You feel a sickly fascination, a temptation to look, but you think better of it and stay away. When you glance at Dave his mouth is a hard line.

“Do you want to borrow my phone to check on Dirk?”

You know the offer will rile him up the moment it’s out your mouth. “Bro? You serious? That dude eats zombies for breakfast.”

You bite your lip and jiggle on the balls of your feet. Every small noise sounds like a zombie coming round the corner. You’re a nervous wreck.

“Your grandpa’ll be fine,” he says suddenly.

“Wh- Oh. Right. I know.” The infection won’t have spread to the island yet. It won’t ever reach there, most likely. You make a mental note of that in case things get any worse.

As you think that, things rapidly get worse.

A gang of zombies appears on your left. Their speed increases when they notice you and Dave like sitting ducks in the corridor. As you ready your chair to defend Dave you catch movement in the corner of your eye and see another group shambling towards you from the other end of the corridor. You’re trapped and surrounded, and it’s less than a minute until they reach you.

“Zombies,” you say quietly.

“I know.” His movements with the keys are becoming more frantic. You can’t help thinking he could be missing some. There’s a guttural groan from your left that the rest of the horde soon takes up and Dave fumbles. The keys clatter to the floor.

You grab them and rifle through them. One has a green tag and you shove it into the lock. Dave whacks a zombie and you hear a squelchy sound. Another zombie gets past him and claws at your backpack before Dave knocks it away. You jiggle the key desperately and then the door gives way. You scramble inside the office and drag Dave after you, then slam the door.

The two of you stare at each other, eyes wide. You can still hear them moaning.

After recollecting yourself you start looking through drawers looking for the firearm. Eventually you realise it’s probably locked up. You grab the keys from where you dropped them on the desk and see Dave holding something in his hands, looking puzzled.

“What’s that?” Your bag’s open. “You went in my _bag?_ ”

“It was broken ‘cause of the zombies. What’s this?” He’s holding a CD. You know every track on it.

You start trying to unlock various cabinets. “What does it look like?”

“Looks like a CD with my name on it. It looks very much like that. It is so like that that when they make movies about cloning they will be based on my true story. It is like, the twin brother or a CD with my name on it, separated at birth, only now coming into the story because the original brother died and twins are useful for shit. You could even say it _is_ a CD with my name on it. Why do you have a CD with my name on it?”

Now is really not the best time to be having this conversation. Still, the CD does need explaining. You take a moment to think about how you’re going to frame this one and in the meantime find the firearm. It’s unloaded, but there are two boxes of ammo. You grin and start loading it. “I was going to give it to you.”

“It’s not my birthday.”

“I was going to ask you out, alright! It’s a CD of music I’ve composed. Some of it’s stuff we did together but mostly it’s my own work. I thought I would give it to you and ask you on a date.”

By this point you’ve fully loaded the gun. You stand with it and don’t fail to notice Dave’s tiny flinch. The other box of ammunition goes in your bag, along with the CD.

“It’d be pretty brave of you to ask me out,” he says.

You shrug. “Your crush on me is really obvious, Dave!”

He splutters. “I’m not obvious.  I don’t do crushes.”

You ignore his respond and try to hold back your annoyance at him bringing that up. If you get bitten because you’re flustered, it’ll be his fault. “Keep telling yourself that! We’re going to have to fight our way out, you ready?”

“Wait. No.” You raise an eyebrow at him. He’s almost blushing. “We’re in serious danger here. This could be the last time we’re safe and, uh, alone, together, for a while.”

You fight back an exasperated sigh. “That’s true.”

“So I guess… while we’re alone together…”

You put the gun down on the desk, cut to the chase and kiss him. He gasps softly in surprise but pulls you closer. His fingers tangle in your hair and you allow your hands to settle on his waist. You can still hear the zombies outside and somewhere not too far away some kids are screaming, but it feels like there is a bubble of quiet around you.

The kiss lasts longer than it probably should given that there are zombies outside. It is a good kiss.

When you stop there is a breathless moment. He smiles sheepishly. You don’t want to let go of him, but the groans outside incentivise you, though, and you manage to pick up your gun. Dave casts around for a better weapon and finds a trophy baseball bat made of heavy, dark wood.

“Let’s rock this thing,” you say.


End file.
